


teach me how to say goodbye

by hopeless_hope



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Kidnapping, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Whump, i am a monster, i genuinely cried writing this, this is by far the saddest thing i have ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 16:16:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16643552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_hope/pseuds/hopeless_hope
Summary: Tony curls Peter into him protectively. “Don’t hurt him!” Tony warns, and the man laughs.“Oh, I’m not going to do anything. You are,” he says, placing the gun down on the floor. “Well, technically you have a choice. Either you can kill your boy, or you,” he says, pointing at Peter, “can shoot Iron Man. I’ll leave it for you to decide. The survivor will be free to go, never to hear from me again.”(In which Peter and Tony face the hardest decision they've ever had to make.)





	teach me how to say goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Major Character Death. This is literally so sad. Also, gun violence, I guess.
> 
> Disclaimer: Title taken from Hamilton the Musical, and prompt/story idea taken from a list of like 100 sad writing prompts on Pinterest. Not sure who exactly to credit?

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony jolts violently, eyes flying open at the groggy voice that echoes across the cold cellar. He blinks rapidly, willing his eyes to focus in the dark room.

“Peter!” he gasps, quickly scrambling to get up. “How long have I been out?”

The kid shivers, biting his lip. “I’m not exactly sure. I only just woke up.”

Tony shrugs out of his jacket, placing it over the kid and rubbing his shoulders comfortingly. “That’s okay, kid. Are you hurt?” He asks, looking over him studiously.

Peter looks up at him nervously. “No, I’m okay. Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, I should have – “

Tony cuts him off swiftly. “Pete, no. These guys must have been watching me for months. I always take very specific and weird backroads whenever I go to pick you up, which isn’t very often anyway. There is no way this is your fault.”

Peter lets out a shaky breath, trying not to panic. “What do they want?”

Tony grimaces. He’s not particularly excited to find out the answer to that particular question. He quickly paces around the room, checking for microphones and cameras. He doesn’t see any, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be cautious.

“I’m not sure, bud. Could be any number of things,” Tony says, and he sees Peter’s hands fidgeting nervously. “It’s going to be okay. I’m sure Cap and everyone realized something’s wrong as soon as we didn’t show up for dinner.”

Peter nods, tugging Tony’s jacket tighter around himself. Tony feels nothing more than a mild chill, and he makes a mental note to get Peter checked out when all this is over; he’s noticed Peter’s been more susceptible to the cold lately.

Tony stops his anxious pacing in favor of sitting down next to the kid. Even though Peter’s more than used to high-stress situations, he’s never been kidnapped before, and he’s not Spider-Man right now. He’s Peter Parker.

And that scares Tony more than anything.

Tony slings an arm around his protégé’s shoulder, hoping to seem casual while also offering what little comfort he can. He can’t help but smile a little when the teen leans into the touch.

“Just try your best to relax. We can’t do anything right now, and we need to conserve our energy,” Tony tells him.

Peter looks up at him, and Tony’s heart aches at the amount of trust in Peter’s gaze. “Okay,” he says softly, letting his head fall onto his mentor’s shoulder.

Tony’s hand makes its way to Peter’s hair, brushing through the soft strands until Peter’s eyes droop tiredly.

They wait.

* * *

When Peter’s eyes fly open suddenly, Tony nearly flings him away in alarm.

“Peter?” Tony whispers urgently, but Peter just gestures for him to be quiet, head tilted as he tries to listen to whatever it is that escapes Tony’s regular human hearing. He doesn’t miss the way the boy presses closer to him.

“Someone’s coming,” Peter says in a hushed voice, and Tony tenses as they both get to their feet, with Tony shifting in front of the kid protectively.

The door to their cell opens, and in walks a very average-looking man, not much taller than Tony, and dressed in jeans and a plain t-shirt. The image is so _ordinary_ that Peter almost does a double-take.

Tony, however, is a little less surprised. He knows better than anyone that some of the worst villains are the ones who don’t even look like one.

The man stops just inside the entrance and pauses to survey them, lips quirking at the two hostages.

“Ah, it’s good to see you two awake. I finally got the victory of capturing _the_ Tony Stark, and then I didn’t even get to rub it in your face.” The man sighs dramatically. “But no matter. You’re awake now. Along with your little protégé, Peter Parker. Or should I say – Spider-Man?”

The man smirks at their shocked faces.

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs. “I’m more impressed that people haven’t put two and two together sooner.”

It takes everything in Tony not to growl. “What do you want?” he spits angrily.

The guy pretends to look thoughtful at the question. “What do I want? Hm, that’s a good question, Mr. Stark. I want a lot of things. A mansion, for starters. First class tickets every time I get on a plane, a life without hardship. A family.”

He pauses, his mild-mannered face suddenly darkening, and Tony tenses as the man opens his mouth to continue.

“I had a family once. I don’t anymore. Because of you two.”

Tony furrows his brows in confusion, and he hears Peter’s sharp intake of breath behind him.

“You see, I distinctly remember the moment very distinctly. It had been a great day. I’d received a promotion at work. I came home to tell my wife and son. We went out for a celebratory dinner to celebrate the news,” he tells them.

He sighs wistfully. “So, we go out to this fancy restaurant, you’ve probably heard of it. Le Bernardin.”

Tony’s heart stops, lungs filling with dread, because _oh no._

He knows that restaurant. Over the past year or so, Peter’s been working to find the last of Toomes’ men to get the weapons out of New York entirely. One man, in particular, had found an older version of Toomes’ wings and had taken to flying through the city with them. It had been a mad chase, with the man blasting at random people and buildings, and eventually Tony had been called in to help.

He knew there’d been several civilian injuries by the time the guy was caught, but he hadn’t thought anyone had been killed.

La Bernardin was one of the restaurants that’d been wrecked.

“We’re sitting through this lovely dinner when we start to hear the blasts and screams. We see a flash of red and gold, and then some red and blue, and the next thing I know, there’s a big hole in the side of the building.”

The man begins to pace, and Tony can feel Peter trembling slightly behind him.

“At first, it seems like – miraculously – everyone is okay. Scraped up and bruised, sure. But alive. My wife made it out with nothing more than a concussion, and my son was almost entirely unscathed. Praise God, right?” the man says with a cynical twist to his lips.

Tony dreads what comes next.

“A few days later, she starts complaining about these really bad headaches and dizziness. And I think, well, that’s probably normal after a bad concussion. She goes to sleep one night, and when the next morning comes, she won’t wake up, but she’s still breathing. We rush her to the hospital, and it turns out she’s got internal bleeding from the hit to the head. They operate. She won’t wake up. A coma, they say.”

His face twists in pain, and Tony knows this can’t be the end of the story.

“Weeks go by. Turns into two months. She’s got all these wires and tubes, and when she stops breathing, they get a machine to do that for her too. Brain dead, is what they tell me. My beautiful wife,” he croaks, voice rough with emotion. “And you know what I had to do?”

He stops pacing now, looking Tony straight in the eye.

“I had to make the decision to pull the plug.”

Behind Tony, Peter flinches.

The man laughs bitterly. “And you think it can’t get worse than that, right? But then it does. My son jumps off a skyscraper.”

The man looks at Peter with wild eyes. “And where were you, Spider-Man? What happened to looking out for the little guy? It’s bad enough that you and daddy dearest over here are responsible for the death of my wife, but no. I lost my whole family.”

Peter is shaking in earnest now, tears gliding down his cheeks. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t – I didn’t mean to – I didn’t know,” he says, and Tony is hit by another wave of protectiveness. How _dare_ this man talk to his kid like that? How dare he blame Peter for the death of his family?

“No,” Tony objects firmly, before the man can say anything else. “He did nothing wrong. Nothing. Don’t blame him. It’s not his fault.”

The man just looks at them for a second, and Tony takes the time to ask, “What is it you want from me? I can give you money. Just name the price and it’s yours. I can – “

“ENOUGH!” the man explodes, rushing forward to shove Tony. “I don’t want your filthy money,” he snarls. “I want my fucking family back!”

Peter looks at him helplessly. “Mr. – sir – I’m sorry. I don’t – I don’t know how to help.”

The man looks at Peter and smiles sinisterly, and Tony immediately wishes the kid had just kept his mouth shut. The kid’s empathy is going to be the death of him.

“Ha, you see - you silly little superheroes think you can just put on a suit and throw some punches, and that’s saving people. But no. You guys harm more than you help, and it’s time that you _feel_ the consequences of your actions, of what you do to others,” the man says slowly, watching their faces carefully.

He slowly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gun.

Tony curls Peter into him protectively. “Don’t hurt him!” Tony warns, and the man laughs.

“Oh, _I’m_ not going to do anything. You are,” he says, placing the gun down on the floor. “Well, technically you have a choice. Either you can kill your boy, or _you,_ ” he says, pointing at Peter, “can shoot Iron Man. I’ll leave it for you to decide. The survivor will be free to go, never to hear from me again.”

Tony looks at him incredulously. “No. We are _not_ going to do this. I think you’re very badly mistaken.”

The man raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Well, how about I make this a little easier for you?” He waves his hands and screens in the wall suddenly come to life.

Peter gasps as live video feed of May and Ned fill up one screen, and Pepper and Rhodey fill up the other.

“If you try any funny business at all, you can say goodbye to these four, and I’ll make the final decision for you. One way or another, you will learn to feel the pain of having to say goodbye to someone you love,” the man says, turning to walk out.

He pauses just before he leaves. “Oh, and don’t bother to try escaping. We’re watching you, and if we see either of you so much as try, game over. You have half an hour to decide. Believe it or not, I can’t be bothered to hang around here all day.”

And with that, he’s gone. A timer appears on the screens.

For a moment, there’s just empty silence, save for the sounds of harsh breathing. Tony’s stomach has turned to lead, heart sinking down to his feet. He turns around to face Peter, looking more tired than ever.

“Pete,” he says gently, putting his hands on the kid’s shaking shoulders. Peter’s breathing picks up, panicked as his eyes dart from the gun on the floor to Tony and then to May and Ned.

“I-I don’t – Mr. Stark, what do we do?” he asks breathlessly, eyes wide and looking at his mentor with a trust that makes Tony want to vomit.

Tony’s already realized what Peter has yet to accept. There’s no getting out of this.

“Come here,” Tony says softly, pulling the boy away from the gun and into his arms. He delicately lowers them both to the ground as Peter clings to him in fear, eyes still locked on May.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter croaks again.

“Shhh, Peter, I’ll take care of this. I promise,” Tony says, heart heavy. When Peter looks up again, Tony’s heart constricts at just how much of a _child_ Peter is.

He wants to scream, because Peter already _knows_ what it’s like to lose family. He knows what it’s like to say goodbye again and again, he’s had to lose more than most people do in a whole lifetime.

But Tony knows this evil man doesn’t care.

“How?” Peter asks in a small voice, curling into Tony’s side.

“Peter,” Tony sighs. He lifts the boy’s face to look at him sadly. Peter stares back at him, eyes filling with tears as he reads Tony’s expression.

“No!” Peter gasps. “Y-You can’t! We – we can find a way out, we have to,” Peter cries desperately, burying his face into Tony’s neck.

Tony holds him tightly, rubbing his back. He eyes the timer. Ten minutes.

He allows Peter to cry for a little bit before gently prying him away. “Peter, look at me. I need you to be strong for me, okay? Can you do that, bud?”

Peter nods fiercely, swiping at his eyes. “It has to be me, kid. I think we both know it.” When Peter opens his mouth to protest, face stricken, Tony gently shushes him. “We’ve go to protect them, Pete,” he says, pointing to their family on the screen. “And me? I’m old. The world doesn’t need Iron Man as much as it needs Spider-Man.”

Peter’s crying in earnest now, breaths hitching, but Tony just cups his face and continues. “And the world definitely doesn’t need a Tony Stark, not when it’s got a perfectly good Peter Parker. May, Pepper, your friends, and the Avengers? They all need you.”

Peter’s gripping Tony so hard it hurts, but he lets him at least have this. “No! P-Please – I – Mr. Stark, _I need you_. I need you,” Peter cries brokenly.

Tony closes his eyes, pain washing over him. _God, I can’t do this._

“It’s going to be okay, Pete. I promise,” he says, pressing his face into Peter’s soft curls as he rocks them both gently.

He keeps the kid’s face pressed into him, closing his eyes for a moment and wishing he could just whisk them away from all of this. He prays over and over that Nat and Steve will show up, but the timer shows five, and he knows what has to be done.

“Peter,” Tony croons. “Come on, buddy.” He carefully picks the kid up and carries him to the center of the room, where the gun rests heavy on the floor.

Peter thrashes, crying out violently. “No! You can’t!” he screams, and Tony knows he’s talking to the camera. “I won’t! I won’t do it!”

Tony catches reaches out to cup both sides of Peter’s face. “Peter, Peter, look at me. Look at _me._ It’s going to be okay. I won’t even feel a thing. It’ll be just like falling asleep, I promise.”

Peter looks up at him with wide, tearful eyes. “Mr. Stark, I _can’t._ Please don’t make me,” he pleads desperately.

Three minutes.

“I’m so sorry, kid,” Tony says, trying not to fall apart. He has to be strong. He has to keep it together for his kid.

He delicately picks up the gun and flips off the safety before pressing it into Peter’s hands. Peter’s shaking so hard, he nearly drops it.

Two minutes.

“It’s okay, Pete,” Tony whispers, swallowing thickly, and Peter let’s out a whine, high-pitched and desperate.

“ _Tony,_ ” he sobs, “I c-can’t,” he pants. “I can’t.”

“You can, Pete. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here,” Tony says, putting a hand over Peter’s heart. “Can you do me a favor, Peter? One last favor?”

Peter nods frantically, practically chocking on tears. “Anything,” he promises, voice cracking.

“Tell Pepper I love her. And kid? You’re already so much better than I ever was. I’m so proud of you,” Tony tells him, aching at the look in the kid’s eyes. He knows Peter will never be able to go back to the happy chatterbox he was before.

One minute.

Ever so gently, Tony carefully grasps the boy’s shaking arm, and raises the gun to his own head, hand over Peter’s shaking one. Tony’s filled with fear – god, he’s so scared – but he tries to keep it together for Peter.

“It’s okay, Peter,” Tony repeats. “It’s okay. This isn’t your fault.”

And the sounds that are coming out of Peter now are completely inhuman, high-pitched whimpers of fear and grief that rattle Tony down to his very core.

Thirty seconds.

With one hand over Peter’s, Tony keeps his other hand on Peter’s cheek, keeping his eyes locked on the boy’s.

“Just close your eyes,” Tony whispers. Peter shakes his head emphatically, tears streaming down his cheeks as his face twists in pain.

Ten seconds.

“Tony,” Peter chokes out. “I love you. _I love you._ ”

Tony tightens his hand over Peter’s, heart beating wilding in his chest. He closes his eyes and thinks of everyone in his life who made it worth getting this far: Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, the Avengers, and Peter.

He looks at Peter and lets himself fill to the brim with love, and he thinks that maybe this is what it feels like to be a father.

“I love you too, kid.”

His eyes don’t leave Peter’s face as he places his finger over the kid’s own. He inhales deeply, and presses.

He’s gone before he can breathe out again.

**Author's Note:**

> This didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, and I just don't think the writing is very good, but oh well. I usually think of titles and then write stories to fit them, which is kinda weird I guess, but this title has been eating at me for awhile, and when I saw the prompt on Pinterest, I just had to write it.
> 
> I hope it is to your satisfaction! I'm going to go cry now. Feel free to come cry with me or yell at me on tumblr @the-great-escapism!
> 
> As always, please leave a comment or kudos and tell me what you think! Thank you so much!


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